Page 112 of Chasing the Wild
“We can’t.” Her voice is so quiet I can hardly hear her above the rustling and the munching of the horses.
Of course, she’s right. I’m a desperate goddamn fool, and while it’s only been two days, here I am ready to risk every fucking thing just for her. Because it’s the absolute truth—I’m insane for her, and I’m going crazy without her.
How the fuck I’m supposed to survive once she leaves is an approaching storm front I’m willingly ignoring for the meantime. I guess it’ll just drown me where I stand once it finally hits, and I’m left shivering out in the elements, completely exposed, with my chest ripped open.
“Then tomorrow night, do me a favor…” My jaw works, and my eyes dart back to that doorway once again, confirming there isn’t anyone standing there listening in. “Wear something pretty, angel. Not for me… although I’ll be struggling not to fucking stare, no matter what you’re wearing. But wear something for you.”
Layla doesn’t reply. She doesn’t say a word. All I see is the tension in her face, and the next minute, she’s gone.
The sound of her soft footsteps, and sight of my girl walking out those doors leaves my heart slashed in two.
Chapter 31
“Who would have thought Colton Wilder could be so funny?”
The pregnant bitch sitting in the booth across from me covers Colt’s forearm with her neon green press-on nails for the fifth time since we’ve got here.
He slides his arm away, removing himself from her clutches… again.
This is a horror movie. I’ve ended up in hillbilly hell, where the succubus slurping on a ghastly-looking mocktail, carrying the spawn of my ex-boyfriend, is spending the entire evening trying to hit on his father.
I mean, not that I have much of a moral high horse to ride in on, considering my past with both men. But fuck this bitch. I’ve chomped my way through my burger, aggressively dunked my fries in sauce, and resisted the urge to stabChyannahin the hand with my fork.
Kayce is nowhere to be seen, of course. He abandoned us to the delightful company of Chy, and her attempts at getting into Colt’s pants even while nearly six months pregnant, anddisappeared off to a group of his friends over by the bar. He said he’d be back twenty minutes ago, and yet here we are.
The Loaded Hog has filled up for the night with some kind of annual ‘end of winter’ festival that goes on, drawing people in from miles around. There’s a tent and festoon lights covering the outdoor beer garden, with a live cover band. A mix of classics interspersed with modern hits are obviously giving the Crimson Ridge crowd what they’re after, seeing as the place is packed out tonight. Inside, it’s standing room only, heaving with patrons, while outdoors, the makeshift dance floor is also shoulder to shoulder.
I’ve had to survive the past hour and a half sitting beside Colt in this tiny booth while we’ve listened to Chy talk about herself the entire time. Kayce keeps getting up and down to get himself more drinks, and I’m ready to crawl out of my skin.
My fingertips are barely clinging to the edge of sanity. It’s loud and crowded and far too chaotic after the serenity of the ranch, and I know Colt must be writhing on the inside the longer we spend here. When I dared sneak a glance at him earlier for half a second while Chy was rummaging in her purse for gum, I could see the tic in his jaw working overtime. Not to mention how tightly he’s gripped his beer the entire duration we’ve sat in this booth.
Tonight has been a battle, fighting every urge to reach for him below the table. All I want to do is brush a reassuring finger against his thigh, to let him know I’m right here, to somehow help him understand I still feel such a powerful connection between us.
What it comes down to is that I want to have the right to touch him openly, so badly.
We all drove down the mountain together in his truck tonight. No way in hell was Kayce ever going to remain sober enough to drive, and even though we’ve got a pregnant womanamongst us who could technically be the designated driver for our entire merry little group, I wouldn’t trust that woman behind the wheel. Not up Devil’s Peak after dark.
So, Colt is our ride, and he’s nursing his solitary beer. I’ve had a couple of drinks with my meal, but I’m at the point now where I’m feeling like I need something stronger, just to settle my nerves.
“There’s my baby daddy,” Chy calls out as Kayce reappears and slides back into the booth.
Ew. Gross.
I have to school my features not to give away how weird I find this girl. It’s also entirely unclear whether she knows about my history with Kayce, because neither have mentioned anything in the brief amount of time we’ve endured each other’s company since they arrived at the ranch.
I’ve done my best to avoid both of them since their unexpected arrival at the ranch—successfully so, up until tonight. Then, while we were all stuck together in the truck on the trip into Crimson Ridge, they only talked about their mutual group of friends we were going to be meeting up with at the bar. So there hasn’t exactly been an appropriate moment to politely enquire about whether the pregnant dickhead my ex-boyfriend has on his arm is aware of my brief, and forgettable, dating history with him.
However, as much as I might regret dating Kayce, it was also the thing that brought me to Colt, and I’m entirely conflicted about that. Can I hate the circumstances that helped me find the person who I’m almost certain is the great love of my life? Even if I can never have him and never tell him?
Fucking hell. I definitely need shots. Right now.
“Anyone want a drink? I’m going to the bar.” I announce.
“Fuck yeah, let’s get the birthday girl wasted,” Kayce whoops.
Colt makes a noise that sounds like a snarl. “Kayce. Don’t be a fucking idiot,” he snaps.
“Jesus, Dad. Just because you’re past going out and having a good time.” The man-child sitting across from me who isabsolutelyan idiot rolls his eyes. “Come on, Layla. The others are all at the bar anyway. I’ll introduce you to some fun people.”
